I am a country and blues singer

There's got to be a country song out there with the approriately twang-flavored lyrics to express my running woes, for they are not special woes, really, but simply Everyman's running woes.

"This hurts."
"That hurts."
"I'm not as fast as I once was."
"I'm not as fast as I want to be."
"This is harder than it should be."
"Fall is great, but, man, those leaves are like soap on ice."

You get the picture.

Or maybe I'm looking for a blues melody, something like The Beginning Runner's Blues, for the blues really are democratic, as long as you're not filthy rich. (No, Trump, you can't have the blues. Not yours.)

Oh, my runnin' legs have left me,
left me way behind,
back o' the pack, havin' a heart attack,
over my lousy per-mile time!
Oh, I got the blues...
the beginning runner's blues...

etcetera



Today's run - my first in over a month - did not go as I'd hoped. It's not that I had high-apple-pie-in-the-sky hopes (I did go dormant for a month, after all), but I had hoped that the problem of running out of oxygen would not be there. I've been on antibiotics for two weeks now and they're doing a helluva job. I've changed my therapy around and changed which albuterol I do and how its delivered - and it has made all the difference. Even my friends have commented that my coughing is down and I can tell I'm getting better because I no longer have to pause at the top of the subway stairs.

However, out of shape is just out of shape and that's what I'm fighting right now. I'm back to being a rank beginner at this game. Perhaps it was not wise to choose an uphill-downhill course, but that's what I did. As a percentage, I walked slightly less than in the Staten Island half - and didn't have to walk the downhills at all - but still ran out of oxygen way too early and too often. There were moments of complete stop, where I was gasping for breath and/or dry heaving. Thus, my per-mile time is actually slower than the Staten Island half. When I was moving, it was at a pretty good 11 minute/mile jog. And that part felt pretty good.

After about 2 1/4 miles, I arrived home, more than half an hour after I left. And I was wiped out. Now, my energy reserves have been lacking lately, and I'm trying to get my sleep this week and next and eat more and .... yeah. Etcetera. But I can't believe how utterly done I was after the run.

And that, I have to think, if I subtract out the lung infection, subtract out the CF, its just that my cardiovascular fitness is bad. I have a long, uphill battle and not much time to do it in if I want to do the Manhattan Half. In the meantime, I'm considering doing the 4 mile race in Central Park this weekend and warming up 1.5 miles for it - to give honor to Ryan Shay as a memorial run.